


Drinking Games

by momentinsubtext



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-03
Updated: 2008-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentinsubtext/pseuds/momentinsubtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor got himself drunk so that Jack could seduce him, but Jack isn't home. What's a lonely Time Lord to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Games

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from my Teaspoon account.

" _Ja-a-ack!_ " The Doctor sing-songed, waltzing out of the Tardis stark naked. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." He looked around expectantly, then wilted a bit when Jack didn't appear. Nearly -but not quite- pouting, he walked around the main area of the Hub, glancing disinterestedly at the pieces of alien technology laying around. "Nice organizational skills you've got here, Jack," he commented. "Still, at least you don't have anything too - what's this?"  
  
He picked up a round silver device and held it close to his face, sniffed it, then licked it. "Ugh," he said, making a face, "Ick. Yuck. Bleargh. That's disgusting. Like licking wet cement." He held it up and waved it where the security camera could see. "This is dangerous. Like, lock-it-in-a-radiation-proof-box dangerous. Give it a couple hundred years and... kabloom!" He clapped his hands to the table, dropping the device carefully. "Good luck containing that."  
  
He plopped into the chair in front of the computer. "Not that I'm doubting your planet-protecting abilities, really, but -oh, this isn't at all difficult to hack into." He shook his head. "Your security _sucks_ , Jack. You should get that looked at." He taped at the keys. "Oh, you _are_ underfunded aren't you? Don't mind me, I'm just bored and poking about. And what's... oh. Oh, well, thanks Jack. Great job at that 'rebuilding in my honour' thing. You could have at least removed my name from the list of Really Bad Enemies To Kill On Sight." He sighed, rolled his eyes, and tapped a few more keys. "Don't worry, I've done it myself. Not that I'm offended or anything."  
  
He stood up and looked indignantly at the camera, hands on pale hips. "And to think I got myself drunk for you. That's right, drunk. I am drunk. You don't even want to know how many favours I had to call in to get enough of the right kind of alcohol to actually lower my inhibitions this much." He paused. "Fifty-three. Fifty- _three_ favours it took, and I've been banned from visiting six more planets. In any time. And you don't even have the decency to be here?"  
  
He wandered into Jack office and dropped into Jack's chair, wiggling until he was comfortable, and swung his legs up onto the desk. "It's not that I'm upset," he said, twiddling his thumbs and keeping his eye on the camera. "I'm slightly too drunk for that. Give me two or ten minutes, though, and who knows? Maybe I'll trash your office in a fit of rage. That'd be something." He laughed, then swivelled the chair so he could look straight at the camera, and let his feet fall to the floor, dragging with them a collection of items that he didn't even bother to glance at.  
  
"The really ironic thing is, you've been waiting for this visit for years. This one visit. Probably the last chance you'll ever get, 'cos I don't think I'll ever have the nerve to try this again. And you're off saving the world. Or getting laid. Or both at the same time. I can't even object. Wish I could, but I can't. Rather frustrating, that." He frowned. "Hmm. That'll be the sobriety kicking in. I'm starting to feel a bit foolish, swooping in here expecting to be swept off my feet, seduced, wined-and-dined." He glanced down at himself. "Or maybe just jumped. But that would have been okay, too. Anything at all would have been fine. Would have been fun. But _this_ -" He waved his hand around the empty room. "- _this_ is not fun. _This_ is borderline depressing. So."  
  
He crossed the room and stared up at the camera. "Jack. I want you. And I need you. And I don't think it's entirely impossible that I'm falling in love with you. I don't know which of those you wanted to hear, but they're all true. Sadly, it's going to be a couple hundred years before I can come back here without feeling like an idiot. Guess you'll have to make do with hearing them once and moving on." He sighed deeply. "Anyway. I'm going to go before the sober part of my brain realises what a spectacularly bad idea this was. Maybe it's good that you're not here. At least it makes it easier to leave."  
  
His eyes closed for a second, and he smiled before opening them again. "Bye, Jack. I'm done waiting for you. You should probably stop waiting for me, too." He dug his fingernails into his palms and turned away before any more emotion could leak out his face. Damn it. Damn it. Sobriety wasn't supposed to kick in at the same time this pathetic attempt ended terribly. That wasn't fair. And he was _not_ going to have a breakdown on Torchwood's CCTV.  
  
But it really wasn't fair. He'd just come to the sudden realisation that he'd obliterated any chance he'd had of being able to so much as see Jack from a distance without running away in shame. Damn it, this was why he'd gotten so drunk.  
  
His eyes caught on the hatch leading down to Jack's room, and the knew instantly what it was. He almost hesitated, then decided that it didn't really matter, he'd already screwed himself over. One peek at Jack's bed couldn't hurt. "But first," he said, falsely bright. "I'm going to poke around your room. At least you'll be able to tell people you got me there. It won't be entirely a lie."  
  
He pulled the hatch open and climbed down the ladder. Standing in Jack's bedroom, surrounded by his personal things, the Doctor suddenly found himself clinging to the ladder with whitened knuckles, shaking. He swallowed to lump that had appeared in his throat and pressed his forehead against the cool metal rung. _Composure_ , he told himself sternly. At least there wasn't a camera down here. Still, a meltdown wasn't going to help him any right now.  
  
Keeping that thought in the front of his mind, he let go of the ladder and let his hands smooth down the corner of a sheet. Jack's bed looked nice, inviting, even. Before his brain could even process the idea, he'd crawled into it and buried his face in Jack's pillow. Tears sprang to his eyes. It was nice here. He was floating, surrounded by warmth, and softness, and the scent of Jack. He made a small, lonely noise and burrowed deeper into the bed. He'd regain his composure in a second and then he'd be on his way.  
  
  
  
Jack stumbled into the Hub in the dead of night, exhausted and ready to fall into bed. He found himself suddenly awake and alert upon nearly walking into the Tardis, then finding his desk ransacked. He tidied his desk, watched the CCTV footage, and secured the radioactive device almost in a daze. The Doctor's words echoed through his mind, making his mouth dry and his heart race. He didn't really have much hope that the Doctor was still there, but he hadn't seen him leave either.  
  
He climbed down the ladder and stared. The Doctor was curled up in his bed, asleep and looking more content than Jack had ever seen him. "Oh," Jack breathed, wetting his lips. He stood nearly spellbound by the side of the bed, moving only to brush his knuckles over the Doctor's cheek.  
  
"Jack," the Doctor sighed, half-asleep, leaning into Jack's hand.  
  
Jack's eyes widened and he froze. "Doctor..."  
  
"Mm?" He mumbled. "Geddin."  
  
Jack stared at him for another minute, then stripped and crawled into the bed beside him. "Doctor?"  
  
"Jack." The Doctor draped himself over Jack; arms wrapped around him, legs tangled together, body flush against his. He pressed his face into the side of Jack's neck and mumbled, "mine," into his skin.  
  
Jack's breath caught in his throat before his arms were around the Doctor, completely awestruck at finding himself here, the Doctor delivered almost literally into his arms.  
  
"Lucky. . .fellsleep," the Doctor mumbled. "Dun... lemme run 'way... 'gain, 'kay?"  
  
  
  
He woke up while the Doctor was slipping out of the bed. Oh, sure, he was being careful, but Jack was a light sleeper, trained by years in the military. He lay in the dark and waited.  
  
By the time the Doctor had reached the third rung Jack knew we wouldn't be coming back. He wasn't at all prepared for the sudden, overwhelming sense of loss that knowledge caused. A hard, cold emptiness formed in the pit of his stomach. It was like the Gamestation all over again, the bottom falling off the world.  
  
He should have been prepared for this. The Doctor had been drunk and tired, and he never, ever stayed. Jack knew that. It still took all his energy to remain lying motionless on the bed, pretending to be asleep. Some days, it was really hard to tell the difference between being noble and masochistic.  
  
"You're awake," the Doctor sighed, sounding almost defeated.  
  
Jack remained still, consciously regulating his breathing.  
  
"I _know_ you're awake," he said, curiousity piqued. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Letting you go without a confrontation. That is what you wanted, slipping out while I was asleep, right?"  
  
"I didn't think I'd be able to go if you were awake," he admitted.  
  
"Then pretend I'm not," Jack said, concentrating on keeping the words from sounding as forced as they were. "I'll stay right here until the Tardis is gone."  
  
"And you'd be okay with that?" the Doctor asked sceptically, descending the ladder.  
  
"I would be. Eventually." Of course he wouldn't. Letting the Doctor go was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. It would kill him inside, but if he wanted to go, Jack couldn't bring himself to stop him. "You were drunk, so-"  
  
"I wasn't that drunk," the Doctor blurted, unsure why he did so. "Really. Barely drunk at all by the time I decided to leave. Not drunk at all by the time I got down here."  
  
"If you're going to go, go."  
  
The Doctor approached the bed and looked down at Jack. He felt a surge of affection for this man who was trying to hard to be willing to let him go. His eyes trailed down Jack's body, over his bare chest and pale stomach, the single hip-bone that stuck out from a blanket that didn't really conceal a thing. The man really did turn sex into a way of life.  
  
"You really would let me go, wouldn't you?" he murmured, running a finger along Jack's cheek.  
  
Jack's eyes opened and locked onto his. "You have ten seconds to get out of here before my resolve breaks. So if you're going, _run._ "  
  
That was... possibly the bravest thing he'd heard all year. He grinned. "Something I learned from Rose, Jack. 'Run' is a very effective pickup line."


End file.
